


monster

by Dabberdees



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Changing Lives, Dark!Thirteen, Forced mind wipe, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Like this is dark seriously dark, Obsession, Spoilers for Episode: s12e01-02 Spyfall, ansgt, mental manipulation, mind wiping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:09:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22189168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dabberdees/pseuds/Dabberdees
Summary: She should drop them back, leave them on their doorsteps. It's safer.But for them,Or her?Title in reference to Monster by Imagine Dragons.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Graham O'Brien, Thirteenth Doctor & Ryan Sinclair, Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan & Graham O'Brien & Ryan Sinclair
Comments: 24
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

_Gallifrey._

_Gone. Destroyed. Ruined-_

Everything she did. The struggle. The pain. All her past lives, dragged together to fix Gallifrey, save it. Make it so she never had to have their blood on her hands.

Huh, she wondered then, why she only saw the Eyebrows and no one else after him. Just those twelve faces, plus the one they don’t think about. But not her, not the one after her, or the one after that. Just the ones from before.

She snorts, it makes sense now. Why go back and save Gallifrey when you know your oldest friend will destroy it, walk that same path she did all those centuries ago over something he found out.

And now they asked about her. Wanted to know who she was, what she’s been hiding. The careful persona created vanished the moment the Master strolled back into her life…

...and theirs, nearly killing them.

He turned them, made them ask questions that they never asked before, planted seeds of doubt.

_Eyes watching. Scrutinising. Probing._

She doesn’t like it. Not one bit. She needs the control back in her life, needs to be able to reveal what she wants without an interrogation.

She leans away from the console and focuses her gaze on the door leading to their rooms, jaw clenched shut. Teeth grinding. She should drop them back, leave them on their doorsteps. It's safer.

_But is it for them, or her?_

They wouldn’t stare at her back, eyes flicking to one another in silent conversation, whispering behind her back, plotting when to corner her again so they can demand answers.

But she also doesn’t want to be alone; she can’t be alone now. Not with Gallifrey gone. The Master taken away, if only she knew then what he did, she would’ve taken him in — locked him within her TARDIS like her Tenth regeneration wanted to do to Saxon. Or like her twelfth, kept in a vault with the promise of change only to be stabbed in the back as she fell back to her old ways.

The Eyebrows was foolish, naive in his wishes for her. He should’ve died, shouldn’t have listened to the glass avatars of friends failed, abandoned and dead. If he refused, then she wouldn’t be left to pick up his pieces, wouldn’t be made to watch Gallifrey fall once again.

_Gallifrey falls no more-_

_How ridiculous a notion?_

She lashes against the console, anger seeping through her body. Fire and heat, icy and cool. Dangerous.

_He's like fire and ice and rage-_

"Stop it," She yells, hands gripping onto her hair and pulling at it. " _Stop it._ "

She needs to drop them back; she needs to hide. Be safe.

But she can’t. Being alone would be worse, so much worse. She could raze planets, step into the darkness, breath it in because if it’s easy for the Master, then it’s easy for her.

And she doesn’t want easy, she wants what she had before, and she can’t have that unless-

Her eyes narrow, thoughts drifting into existence when she thinks back to Ada and Noor.

_And Donna._

It would be easy. _Pudding brains_ , a Scottish voice says in her head. She ignores him.

But it’s simple, and they wouldn’t know, they would never ask, and she would never lose them. She stalks around the console, deep in thought, the ancient machine trying to work her way through the walls built in her head for defence. Ones she hasn’t yet removed even though the Kasavin took the Master.

She chuckles, darkly and lacking humour. They always had a way into her head, every single one of them. Maybe she let them in, or maybe she didn’t. As much as they crave her attention, she craves theirs.

The Doctor looks back to the stairs again, mind visualising his smug expression. The taunting and jeering and she makes her decision. Legs driving her forward and through her mental image of him, dispersing it.

Who to start with? Who has more to lose? Family or life experiences? A Nani, a mum, a dad, and a sister, or just a dad because everyone else is he had is dead, or no one apart from the people in her ship? Is that fair? She doesn’t know, and she never asked Graham of his life, but she starts with him. Decision made because he has less people to lose.

The door opens at her touch, and she steps in, instantly regretting picking him first. 

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

_Doctor._

Graham stays up, sleeps little and wanders the TARDIS, of course, he would still be awake, glasses perched on his nose while he reads Ernest Hemingway in the chair they picked up together, the one she promised him. Only now he’s looking at her, confused because she’s never stepped in his room before. Never seen it, never needed to.

“Doc?” Graham ventures, the tone in his voice getting across his puzzlement. “You know, people tend to knock before they enter-” He laughs, looking away to place his book on a cabinet. “Doesn’t matter, I suppose, why are you here?”

“It won’t take long, Graham.”

“What won’t?”

The Doctor steps forward, hands opening and closing at her sides. She could step away, make something up, he’ll believe _her_ -

Or will he? He asked her the question she dreaded, and if she steps away now, he’ll tell the others, and they’ll corner her again. “It won’t take long, Graham,” She repeats, hands rising. “I’m sorry.”

Graham frowns at her, legs already starting to push himself up, but she gets there first and pushes him down. She might be smaller, but he’s human, and she’s stronger. Her hands grip his head, eyes wet with grief for what she’s doing, but it needs to be done. He stares at her in fear, fighting against her, but she needs to do this. She sees images, a man and a woman. One with green eyes, another with blue. His parents and she never asked. She doesn't even know their names and neither will he now, but it's for the best.

_To keep them safe._

_To keep her safe._

“I’m sorry, Graham,” The Doctor whispers, tears hot on her face as the older man slips into sleep, his struggles stopping and his memories changed for good. He’ll wake up none the wiser, thoughts only of this ship. Earth is gone from his mind, but he has a life built for him from her own memories. Earth’s green grass replaced by red, skies matching the colour of it, the blue of Earth gone now as the planet he sees is hers. Deserts and a domed building in glory.

_Untouched. Complete. Whole._

He’s still the same, though, ever the caring grandfather to Ryan that smiles kindly and encourages people. Supports them. He’ll wake up with a smirk, and he’ll call her Doc none the wiser to what she stole from him. His life. Parents, friends, history. Oh, he loved history, always talked about it.

She makes him comfortable; he’ll assume he fell asleep in the chair and then she walks from the room, her mind feeling a confused nagging as soon as she shuts the door. She pushes the TARDIS away as she makes her way to Ryan, next on her list. Only slightly harder than the last person, one person to remove. A disappearing dad, recent and still alive compared to Graham's. The door opens at her touch again, and she breathes out with relief when she finds the younger man sound asleep.

He doesn’t stir when she places her hands on his head, doesn’t look at her in fear like Graham did. The image seared into her brain forever.

_Betrayal._

But she continues, changing Ryan’s memories. Keeping Grace there, to remove her would be unkind to the fantastic women she briefly knew.

 _‘And what you’re doing now, is kind?’_ A voice asks in her head, brown coat and sticky up hair. Of course, it would be him. His judging eyes, persecuting her when he did the same. Hypocrite. _‘Only they aren’t dying.’_ He finishes in her head.

She steps away from Ryan, eyes watching his calm and peaceful face. Similar memories planted into his head as Graham. Their lives blended together. Ryan asking to leave with her when she stole the TARDIS all those years ago, Graham coming along because someone needed to be there for him.

“You’re better off without him,” She says. “You won’t get let down and hurt.”

And then she turns from the room, feet dragging her to the final room. She knows she needs to go back, remove objects and possessions from their rooms. Can’t have them finding things. Maybe she’ll just eject the rooms, make them start over-

Her thoughts drift away as she stands in front of the last door, hand inches above it. The people she removed from Graham and Ryan were dead or not worth knowing, but Yaz’s family. She met them, spoke to them, ate at their table. They’ll wonder where their daughter got to. 

They'll have missing posters.

For all three of them, but- Her head tilts to the side, remembering.

_Wanted._

They were wanted, and they haven’t been back since then. Haven’t cleared their names. She focuses forward and opens the door, stepping in with one thought in her mind. What she is doing is a kindness to them.

UNIT is gone, so is Torchwood. The last person who could clear their names is dead.

_Assassinated._

Who would the government blame for that? Them, plain and simple. Or that’s what she tells herself anyway, anything to make what she’s doing not her fault, she's saving them, that's it — something to convince her that this is the right course of action.

They are plane hijackers and murderers. Names tainted, but with her they’re safe.

And so is she if they don’t know.

She doesn’t draw it out, she places her hands on Yaz’s head, but the motion stirs the younger woman awake, eyes blinking upwards in confusion. “Doctor?”

“Shh,” The Doctor murmurs, eyes closing because she can't witness Yaz’s fear. She saw it before, in the chamber, she can’t witness it again.

“What are you-” Yaz asks, waking up properly now. “Doctor, what are you doing?”

She feels Yaz’s head move, shaking as she takes memories away. Ryan was more straightforward, Graham struggled but succumbed quickly, but Yaz is strong. Like Donna. She feels her hands wetten with grief. Hears it and it shatters her hearts.

“Sorry,” The Doctor breathes when Yaz slips away.

They won’t know what she did, and they didn’t beg like Donna.

They stared in fear. They stayed asleep. They cried.

The TARDIS is silent in her mind now. Perhaps she’s judging; perhaps she isn’t.

But it’s done, and they’re safe. They won’t ask, they won’t leave. They can travel stars without wanting more than they have, forever and together. Maybe she’ll figure something out, drag out their lifespans. She’s done it before, she can do it again and she will because she doesn’t have her people to interfere now. She'll change them.

Because she has her Fam and that’s all she ever needs now that everything she ever knew is gone,

_Once again._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was going to be a one-shot, but then I wanted them waking up and her meeting them again.
> 
> So this happened.

Waiting.

Before C, before O, before everything that happened recently, she would usually be bored waiting for them to wake up and walk, or stumble in yawning in Ryan’s case, into the console room, chatting excitedly about home life or work, but now she waits with bated breath. Regret and shame fill her; she crossed a line with them. Something she can't fix. No, she sealed the deal the moment she stole Graham's life from him.

Can she look them in the eye? Forgive herself for what she did? She’s not sure. The TARDIS has been silent in her mind since she walked that lonely path. 

But she doesn’t understand; she can’t understand. This is better; this has to be better because she can start fresh with them. They won’t ask, they won’t probe, they won’t even know that anything happened at all and that's better, right? It's safe.

Safe.

They’re all safe.

Or is she just safe? Hiding back in the shadows again, pretending to be something she isn't.

She can never go back to Earth or at least from the period in time that they live. _Lived_. No, they can remain missing people, hunted and wanted by their own government.

See, she really did them a favour after all.

Or that’s just what she tells herself to make it right in her head. If she could only believe the lie. Her mind drifts to the others Ada and Noor, but it sticks on Donna and more importantly, Wilf. His face when he begged for Donna and her memories. He judges her like her Tenth face is doing now.

_“Don’t you see, you know, you need her Doctor. I mean look, won’t she make you laugh again? Good old Donna-”_

He'd hate her right now, and he'd every right to because she hates herself.

Guilt eats at her, tears apart at her core because she knows she overstepped that mark with them. Invaded and destroyed memories. Parents and family gone like breath on a pane of glass and for what? Safety? So she never had to answer questions?

How could she ever think that she could look them in the eye again? Smile at them and pretend that everything is normal when it isn't?

Because she twisted them, turned them into a remembrance of what she lost. Gallifrey implanted and Earth, their own home, torn from their minds. She lost her planet and in her desperation to not be alone, she took theirs from them.

Perhaps that’s why the TARDIS refuses to speak, to acknowledge her at all. She deserves it.

She acted irrationally, too quickly, and to think she thought changing them would make it better.

' _You already stole Earth from them; you really thought you’d steal their humanity as well? What makes you different from the Mast-_ '

“Morning, Doc,”

She freezes, hands gripping against the console. Too caught up in thoughts, past lives, and regret to pay attention to her surroundings.

“You alright? You look a tad bit lost.”

“Yeah,” The Doctor replies, eyes flicking up briefly and connecting with Graham’s concerned blue. “I was just lost in my thoughts, lots to think about.”

Graham’s face softens from the frown to one she knows she doesn’t deserve. _Kindness_. “About the Master? I know you knew him before, but you’re not to blame, you know that right?” He says. "You couldn't predict what he and that bloke were doing on that planet, lucky we rolled on by to stop them, but none of it was your fault."

What did she place in his mind? Memories of home, perhaps a touch of the Master unintentionally. Her thoughts lingering on him while she played with Graham’s head like a child with putty. Moulding it how she wanted to.

“We stopped him though, you know, saved the planet and the people and all.” Graham continues as he makes his way forward. “Anyway, I came to give you this, should perk you up.”

The Doctor glances to Graham and then to the mug extended out to her. Blue, Red, and Yellow. Faded from washes, but unmistakable in her mind as she reads the lettering across it.

 _West Ham United_.

That's his mug, and he's stood there handing it to her without knowing it. Her eyes dart to where he pinned the badge, the fabric a tad darker and marked from where it used to sit.

“It’s just tea, Doc,” Graham says with a friendly smile. “Like the stuff we had back home, well,” He shrugs slightly, brows furrowing together. “Sort off, think we ran out of the good tea ages ago cause I searched the kitchen and all I could find was this stuff. Odd packaging, haven’t a clue how it got in here, but it ain’t half bad.”

She reaches out, accepting the tea in a mug she should’ve thrown out like the rest of the stuff they brought on board. “Thanks.” She mutters.

“So, I was thinking,” Graham says, eyes carefully watching her over the brim of his mug.

“You were?” The Doctor answers, eyes dodging away from Graham.

“Yeah,” Graham continues, lowering the mug from his mouth. “Well, we’ve had a bit of a rough patch lately, haven’t we? Cause we were wanted on that planet and then you were taken. We've not had a chance to calm down yet, have we?”

The Doctor nods, hands tightening into around the mug as Graham talks about Earth like he doesn’t care or more accurately like he doesn't know it.

_‘And who’s fault is that?’_

A voice echoes in her head.

“And I’ve been collecting these vouchers to this spa thing,” Graham proceeds, his free hand reaching into his pocket as he walks towards the small table. “I got all six now, just got to put them together.” He says, laying them down flat against the surface.

“You got six of what?” Ryan’s voice carries through the console room.

“Vouchers for a spa,” Graham answers.

“A spa?” Yaz probes with interest. “What type?”

Graham glances up to her. He places his mug down and picks the thin square sheets up. “All-inclusive getaway, two weeks of relaxation.”

“Did you pay for it?”

“Nah,” Graham answers as he builds the cube. “I’ve been collecting them, but I don't know since when. I had them sent to that machine in the kitchen, got the last one this morning.”

The Doctor tunes them out, hearts hammering in her chest as they gossip and talk. They’re like themselves, so close, but different.

_Unknown._

“Doc?” The Doctor blinks, head turning to look at Graham who has the last square held above the partially built cube. “You coming? It’s for a party of four, and we’re a four.” He says gesturing between them.

"In a bit, maybe," The Doctor says. "I got some stuff I want to check out on the TARDIS."

Graham lowers the sheet back to the table. "Alright, in a bit then." He says. "But we are going on it, foolish to pass up on when it's free and all."

**Author's Note:**

> Am I sorry?
> 
> No.


End file.
